


Windcut

by naboru



Series: Windcut [2]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Slice of Life, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-04 00:26:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5312741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naboru/pseuds/naboru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After many vorns, Blast Off meets that one rotary again who taught him how to kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Quandary - Or How Blast Off learnt to like Rotaries](https://archiveofourown.org/works/490314) by [naboru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/naboru/pseuds/naboru). 



> **Chapter:** 1/4  
>  **Continuity:** G1, pre-war (Dysfunction AU)  
>  **Rating:** R (this chapter PG)  
>  **Disclaimer:** Sadly, I own nothing.  
>  **Content/Warnings:** fluff, crack, slice-of-life, smut (plug’n’play, graphic and implied)  
>  **Characters:** Blast Off, Original Characters: Lunar Pulse, Windcut, Flare-Up, others  
>  **Beta:** ultharkitty

“I think it’s still odd to see organics go extinct. Some races go extinct within my lifetime, which is nuts, since even our lifespan is only a blink compared with the age of the universe,” Blast Off said, and frowned when Lunar Pulse didn’t interrupt him.

The green shuttle walked next to him with a faint smile on his face. The sidewalk was empty enough they didn't have to dodge other people.

“You’re quiet,” Blast Off commented, and earnt himself a bigger grin.

“It’s just nice to see and hear you’re excited.”

“I’m not ‘excited’ that the Volloon went extinct,” Blast Off insisted, and couldn’t help but be offended. “They were an interesting civilisation and-“

“That’s not what I meant,” Lunar Pulse replied, “but you are interested in it, and you talk about it the way… well, you do now. It’s just nice to see you like that.”

Blast Off’s frown deepened. He didn’t understand, but it wasn’t the first time they'd had this discussion, and so he let it be. “Whatever.” He shrugged. “What have you been up to the last quartex? I haven’t seen you at Horizon’s.”

“I was in Polyhex and picked up a two vorn contract for a spare part supply company.” Lunar Pulse sounded proud, Blast Off could detect it, but only because he’d memorised the other’s reactions better than he had most other people.

“Supply runs? Here on Cybertron?” Blast Off wasn’t sure he’d be happy doing that for vorns.

“Oh, no. Not Cybertron. I get to get them the ores and things from certain colonies and planets. Should be good, and I might see some colonies I haven’t been to before.”

Blast Off allowed his lips to tug slightly upwards. It was good to know Lunar Pulse didn’t regret having to drop out of the Institute. “Sounds interesting.”

Lunar Pulse laughed. “Awww, c’mon. I know you’re lying. For you it’d be boring as the Pit if there’s nothing to research or explore.”

“That-“ Blast Off began, but was forcefully interrupted when someone bumped into his side. He stumbled.

“You stupid afthead,” that someone yelled. “Watch the frag where you’re driving!”

The mech untangled himself from Blast Off who glared at the red and black frame. Their energy fields were mashed, tight against another, and somehow it felt familiar.

“I’m so sorry,” the mech said as he stepped back. “Oh. You… that… Blast Off, wasn’t it?”

Blast Off’s glare morphed into confusion. The mech was a heliformer, black rotors stuck out behind his back and something in Blast Off’s memory banks itched.

“Traffic can be really bad sometimes. You need to be more careful when crossing the street,” Lunar Pulse offered, but the rotary kept looking at Blast Off.

“Windcut.” Blast Off blurted the name as soon as he remembered. 

The heliformer’s face brightened. A broad smile on his face and a friendly glimmer in his optics.

“Uh,” Lunar Pulse flared his field, only enough that it touched Blast Off’s and he could sense the bafflement in it. “You know each other?”

“I, well,” Windcut said, shrugging. The rotor blades moved. “We met once. In Iacon.”

“It was ages ago,” Blast Off added. It was only a one night stand back when HEX was still in commission and he’d been in Iacon for only a few cycles.

“It’s nice to see you again.” Windcut was still smiling. “I probably should have expected it. I mean, since HEX got closed down and everyone moved to Altihex and I’m living here now, too, and… yeah…” He trailed off.

Lunar Pulse’s field nudged Blast Off’s again. “If it was ages ago,” the green shuttle said, “you probably have lots to tell each other.”

Blast Off's jaw clenched.

Windcut opened his mouth but closed it again without having spoken.

“Hey, Blast Off,” Lunar Pulse’s voice had that edge to it that Blast Off dreaded. And that had been the reason he’d met Windcut in the first place all those vorns ago. “You’re off tomorrow evening, aren’t you?”

“Why are you asking?” Blast Off frowned at the other.

“I know you’re free. Windcut, you have to excuse him, he’s a bit exhausted after a space trip. He witnessed an organic race go extinct.”

The heliformer’s optics widened. “I’m so sorry. That sounds terrible.”

“It’s okay?” Blast Off tried, but Lunar Pulse spoke louder over him.

“He can tell you everything about it tomorrow. Where can he meet you tomorrow evening? Say around 1900?” Lunar Pulse’s field was rich with amusement and excitement and Blast Off felt again like he was merely a few quartex old. Like back on HEX, when he had understood the world even less than he did now.

“1900 sounds good. I like the Starlight Cascades if-“

“Sounds great.” Lunar Pulse beamed. “Blast Off will be there.”

Windcut gave Blast Off another friendly smile, and it tickled his memory banks. He remembered it well. Then the rotary’s expression changed to shock.

“Oh frag! I have to go. I’m actually running business errands and should be back by now. Slag. I’m sorry.” He stepped back a bit, his voice apologising and hopeful. “I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

He didn’t wait for an answer and turned, hurrying off with bobbing rotors.

That was the time to turn to Lunar Pulse and glare, Blast Off decided. But his stern expression only met a grinning face.

“What was that?” Blast Off demanded.

Lunar Pulse’s face brightened even more. “Vector Sigma, did you see him. He’s _adorable!_ ”

That took Blast Off off-guard. Lunar Pulse used the moment to pat his upper arm right under the winglet. “You’re welcome.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That means that you wouldn’t have done anything by yourself and would have missed a great chance. Did you even look at him? He’s totally into you.”

They started moving again, Blast Off still glaring.

“So what? We only met one time before today, that doesn’t mean I want to see him again.”

“Right. That’s why you remembered his name after all those vorns within less than a klik. You can’t even remember the name of your room neighbour,” Lunar Pulse countered. “And now tell me everything about your first ‘meeting’. And I mean _everything_.”

“No.” Blast Off really didn’t feel like admitting he’d interfaced with a planet bound earlier than his batch mates had.

“Oh, you will.” Lunar Pulse’s voice was dubious, and Blast Off tensed. “If you won’t then I won’t know how to help you with your date, will I?”

Date? Blast Off’s optics brightened and he almost stopped moving. Yet he didn’t really think about not going to meet the rotary. It was only one evening. What's the worst that could happen?

Still, he huffed. “I hate you.”

Lunar Pulse gave him a good humoured snort. “No, you can’t.”

Blast Off sighed.

* * *

The Starlight Cascades were no pretty waterfalls. It was the name of a huge mall with entertainment businesses mixed in. The exterior was designed like stella cascades, and the lights on the walls glimmered like stars flowing down.

It was pretty in the eternal night of Cybertron, but Blast Off would have liked it more if it wasn’t so busy.

He sat on a bench a bit away from one of the smaller entrances, reading. Or trying to read, because his optics roved over the same line for the fourth time, and still he didn’t take in its meaning.

He was waiting for Windcut. A part of him hoped the heliformer wouldn’t show up.

He’d had to tell Lunar Pulse everything about that certain evening vorns ago when he was dragged out by his batch mates. And how he'd almost missed a presentation because Windcut had kept him busy.

Blast Off sighed when he thought about the grin on Lunar Pulse’s face during and after the story.

_“He likes you. You managed to get laid being yourself, and now he wants to meet you again, so heads up, it’ll be awesome,” Lunar Pulse said, the corners of his lip plates never moving down._

_Blast Off frowned, not sure if it was really a compliment. “So you want me to get laid again, or why did you set this up?”_

_The edge of the other’s expression changed. “I just want you to find someone who likes you. That you don’t need to pretend, or feel like you have to…”_

_Blast Off tilted his head, but didn’t ask what Lunar Pulse really hoped for. They both knew he wasn’t capable of emotional intimacy._

_“I think he really likes you, and wants to get to know you better,” Lunar Pulse continued. “He wasn’t ashamed or awkward meeting you again, so that’s a plus, right?”_

_“I guess,” Blast Off said with a shrug. “Didn’t you want me to tell you all this to coach me for the meeting?” His frown returned, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know any advice. He just wanted to change the topic._

Blast Off turned his datapad off as he gave up reading. In his processor, he repeated a few rules Lunar Pulse had made him memorise, though why he should stick to them, he didn’t understand.

_”Walk him home. Don’t interface after the first date – but you can kiss him, if you like.” Lunar Pulse optics blinked mischievously at the last words. “And just be yourself. Don’t pretend, okay?”_

_Blast Off nodded. He was bad at it anyway…_

He did this for Lunar Pulse, Blast Off realised. That explained why he sat there, but he still had no explanation why he did it for his batch mate in the first place.

Leaning back, Blast Off looked at the fake stars on the walls of the mall and liked how they mingled with the sky above. If only the light pollution wasn’t so bad here-

“Uh, hey,” a familiar voice said, and Blast Off turned his head.

Windcut had arrived, and was looking at him. His smile was a little smaller than the day before, with a hint to something Blast Off couldn’t read.

“I hope you didn’t have to wait long.”

“No,” Blast Off replied, getting to his feet. “Maybe a breem.”

“Oh, okay.” Windcut’s rotors gave a twitch. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t leave work earlier. It was so busy today.”

“It’s okay. I read. Or tried to. It’s noisy here.” He shrugged, glancing down at the rotary. He was small compared to the shuttles he usually talked to. It was different, but not necessarily in a bad way. It was just a reminder that his kind were considered tall by normal Cybertronian standards.

“I’ll be honest,” Blast Off said, and vented air, “I have no real idea what to do. Lunar Pulse tried to explain, but,” he shrugged, “you maybe remember that I’m not the best at socialising.”

Windcut still smiled, it was a little different now, but Blast Off couldn't say what had changed. “I remember you didn’t like the loud music”

“Or the screens,” Blast Off added, and it earnt him a giggle.

“We don’t have to go inside if you don’t want to. I just thought the Cascades look pretty.” Windcut stepped a little closer, but not too close that Blast Off had to say something. “It looks like flowing stars. That’s not something you see everywhere. I bet not even in space.”

“Actually,” Blast Off gave a one shoulder shrug, “you see it quite a lot. It’s gravitational lensing when the gravitational field of a mass bends space and gives it dents. It makes stars or other celestial objects appear more than once in different places in the same field of vision, or they shift and vanish if you move in space - or if they move. And sometimes it looks like a curtain that’s moving, depending on how fast you are.” Clenching his free hand to a fist, he realised he shouldn’t have said that and be such a wise-aft about it. “Sorry.”

“No reason to apologise. I didn’t know about that.” Windcut didn’t seem offended. Maybe.

Of course the heliformer wouldn’t know, he’s a planet bound, Blast Off thought, but didn’t say it. Then he remembered Lunar Pulse’s rule not to pretend, and Blast Off dared speak out what was on his mind. “How should you? You’re planet bound.”

“That I am,” Windcut laughed. “But I happen to be a planet bound that knows a stall with ace energon treats and drinks just around the corner. And we don’t even have to enter the mall. So, you’re up for a snack? Because I’m starving.”

* * *

Blast Off was less grumpy than that night they’d met the first time, Windcut thought, and grinned. He seemed older, too. More settled and less overwhelmed by the surroundings, and Windcut found he liked it. 

“I’m actually quite happy to be planet bound,” Windcut said as they walked along the glasscovered gardens next to the mall. “I think space is scary.”

Next to him, Blast Off shrugged. “It is,” he said, with an even, calm voice and that accent he clearly tried to suppress. “It really depends where you are…” the shuttle trailed off, and Windcut resisted asking what he meant.

They were close to the stall anyway, a small box built from organic brown material to blend in better with the plants under the glass dome.

“Anything specific you want?” Windcut asked, and turned to walk backwards in front of Blast Off.

“I…” the shuttle began and shrugged again. He did seem overwhelmed again, but it was different now. Adorable even, and Windcut couldn’t stop smiling. “I’m not fond of sweet galvanites or energon.”

“Okay. I'll see what they have. You can get us a seat on the benches there and I’ll be with you again in an astrosec.” Hurrying off, Windcut saw from his peripheral vision how Blast Off stood still for a moment before he headed off between the glass domes.

Plants were arranged in glass boxes in lines like a park. They’d been imported from all over the galaxy and had every imaginable colour. Some glass domes were lit up, bright spots in the otherwise dark night which made them look even more alien.

It was empty most of the time; not many people were here. Tourists mostly, to be able to say they saw organic alien life, but most inhabitants from Altihex avoided the park.

Blast Off didn’t seem to mind. He’d sat down and glanced at one of the lighted biospheres. It didn’t seem to have only plants in it, something was moving. Windcut would ask in a bit if Blast Off knew what it was.

“How can I help you?” the stall’s staff asked, and Windcut felt caught. He hadn’t even looked at the menu.

He chose four snacks and two drinks, and regretted it as soon as he saw the sizes of them. How he managed to bring them to the bench to Blast Off, he couldn’t explain.

Blast Off stared at him, too. The purple visor bright and optics widened behind. “How did you do that?” he asked bluntly as he shuffled a little aside to make more room for the plates.

Windcut grinned, but only shrugged once he’d sat everything down between them. “Training.” It wasn’t completely a lie. “I do it in the office all the time.”

Blast Off’s expression changed, his voice questioning. “You serve food in an office?”

With a laugh, Windcut sat down, facing Blast Off, his legs crossed. “No, I don’t. Well, not all the time.” He still had to work his way up, but for now he was just a small office clerk…

“So,” Windcut said, and pointed at the rust sticks, “those are just plain rust sticks, those,” he pointed at a different plate, “are sour-tart galvanites, this is… I have no idea, and that’s oil cake of unknown flavour. I hope there’s something you like.”

Blast Off shuffled. He nodded, and took one of the rust sticks. “Thank you,” he muttered. It sounded forced, but Windcut didn’t mind. “I didn’t expect you’d like this place. Not many people do. Too many organic things here, even though they’re under glass.”

“I like the strangeness of this place. It’s like these ‘gardens’ they show on TV on organic planets.” Windcut chose one of the galvanites and nibbled on it. He heard Blast Off huff softly. It sounded amused, and the shuttle appeared more relaxed now.

“I guess people only like it on TV, because then it’s not right in front of them, not real.”

“Well,” Windcut grinned, “I have to admit I’m glad the plants are covered. Some of them look creepy.”

“Some of them _are_ ,” Blast Off replied, his visor brightening. He turned slightly, glancing over his shoulder. “Behind me somewhere is a box whose plants I brought here, and one of them is a literal creeper. And no one told me. They were just like usual, ‘Hey, Blast Off, you like long trips alone in space to distant and weird places. Here, we have a job for you. And a list.’” He bit down on the rust stick and shook his head. “I utterly dislike transporting organics, but this was especially bad. My whole cargo hold was grown over, and this one plant stuck to my walls and dug into seams.” The shuttle shuddered.

“That sounds nasty.” Windcut grimaced. “I’m sorry that happened. Could they get rid of everything once you were back?”

Giving a brief nod, Blast Off ate the rest of the rust stick. He answered once he stopped chewing. “They did, but it took ages. And the plant tickled…”

Windcut chuckled. It must have been hell for Blast Off to forcefully snicker when he didn’t feel like it at all. “That experience is not something I envy you for.”

“I could probably tell a few incidents you wouldn’t envy me for,” Blast Off countered, but he didn’t sound like he was showing off. He sounded amused, and that was something Windcut liked, too.

“There is one thing I do envy shuttleformers for, though,” the rotary said and shifted on the concrete bench.

“And that is?” Blast Off tilted his head, reaching for one of the undefined snacks.

“Sunrises.” Windcut smiled; he missed Cybertron’s star.

Blast Off almost froze, and his voice had a different kind of flatness. “Yeah… I guess we get to see those in space.”

“I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” Windcut didn’t want the atmosphere between them to change.

“No, nothing,” Blast Off gave another one-sided shrug. “It’s just a difficult topic for Altihex. And it feels odd to be associated with the city whose scientists are blamed that Cybertron’s star burnt out completely.”

“But it wasn’t their fault.”

“It wasn’t, but people who don’t understand what happened need to blame someone,” Blast Off said, and it was like he meant more than just the failed project to save the star.

Windcut bit his lower lip. He didn’t want Blast Off to become gloomy. “So, what do you like most in space then? Sunrises or sunsets?” He hoped this question would save the evening.

“I… uh,” Blast Off seemed confused, and Windcut thought he might have succeeded. “I never thought about it.”

“Well, then it’s time you did,” the rotary insisted, the grin back on his face plates, and he dared nudge Blast Off’s hand with his energy field as they both reached for a snack.

* * *

They stayed in the park until the snacks were gone and their energon drunk, and Windcut really enjoyed every moment.

He hadn’t spent much time with shuttles – something you wouldn’t expect in Altihex. But at work, shuttleformers were in higher positions and hardly interacted with anyone but their own kind. It was like that in their free time, too. If Windcut hadn’t run into Blast Off – again – he would probably never have dared to initiate a conversation.

Windcut would have to thank Lunar Pulse, Blast Off had told him the green shuttle's name.

“It was a really nice evening,” Windcut said as they walked side by side. Blast Off refused to use public transport, and Windcut didn’t complain about spending more time with him. “Thank you.”

The shuttle glanced down at him. “You should thank Lunar Pulse, because without him I wouldn’t be here,” he said bluntly, echoing Windcut’s earlier thought. “I had a good time, so I guess I should thank him, too,” Blast Off added with an equal matter-of-factness that made Windcut grin.

“I’m glad you enjoyed the evening.” Too bad it would be over soon. Windcut could already see the building with his apartment. “You…” he began, but had to vent deeply before he continued. “You could come upstairs for a bit? If you like?” Windcut would like it. Definitely like it. The memory of their one night stand very vivid again, and he wouldn’t mind repeating it.

Blast Off was still looking at him, his optics moving, but they weren't roving over Windcut’s frame. He was thinking. His hand clenched and unclenched. “That’s probably not a good idea,” he said eventually, and Windcut couldn’t help but be disappointed.

“Oh,” the rotary uttered, and stopped. Not because of Blast Off’s answer, but they’d reached his home. “Okay.”

“You have to work tomorrow.” Blast Off’s voice had an odd edge to it, but Windcut couldn’t really interpret it. He hoped it meant he’d change his mind. “And frag,” Blast Off groaned, “I have to prepare a presentation.” He rubbed over his face, venting an exasperated sigh.

“I take it you don’t like presentations?”

Blast Off huffed, this time, his noise was less annoyed. Windcut thought he even saw a tiny grin on the shuttle’s face. “That’s an understatement. I like reports. Something I can write and just hand in, but presentations…”

“When do you have to have it ready?” Windcut smiled encouragingly.

“The day after tomorrow. At least it’ll be a smaller audience, so it’s not too bad.”

“But still bad, according to your grimace,” Windcut teased, and stepped a bit closer. Their energy field touched briefly. “So… you really don’t have time to come up?”

Blast Off’s jaw tensed, and this time, his optics roved over Windcut’s rotors and frame. Windcut liked it, and would have loved to make his rotors flick or spin, but it probably was too much for now.

“I should start sorting documents and memory files for the presentation tonight,” Blast Off said, his voice even, but Windcut was sure there was an edge of reluctance in it. “What do I owe you for the food?”

Windcut grinned. “Another date? This time you show me your favourite place in Altihex.”

Blast Off’s optics flickered, but he didn’t sound put off. “Okay. When?”

“The day after tomorrow, after your presentation?” Windcut smiled up at Blast Off, who just nodded, leaving the impression of being confused. Windcut would have loved to have kissed him.

“Where can I pick you up?” Windcut asked.

“Entrance 43 of the Institute. You won’t be able to get in, though.”

“No worries, I’ll wait outside. So… goodnight?”

Blast Off seemed to ponder on something as he stared down on Windcut.

The rotary flared his field again, a gentle breath against Blast Off’s and his rotors gave a twitch of excitement when Blast Off returned the nudge.

“Goodnight then,” Blast Off said, giving a minute nod with his lips tugged up slightly. Then he turned and left.

Windcut watched him walk around the corner before he entered the building. He had a spring in his step as he hurried to his apartment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** ultharkitty

Blast Off was still tired when he opened the door of his room to see Lunar Pulse grinning at him.

“What do you want?” he groaned, but could very well guess why the green shuttle was there.

“Can I come in?” Lunar Pulse asked, already pushing past him.

With a sigh, Blast Off stepped aside so their plating wouldn’t touch. Pushing the button of the door, it closed quietly, and Blast Off went back to his berth. Lunar Pulse sat down on the only chair in the room.

“So?” The yellow visor stared expectantly at Blast Off; he frowned.

“So what?”

“Oh, c’mon. You know what I mean. How was last night?”

Blast Off rubbed his face. “You’re annoying…”

“I know, but you haven’t kicked me out yet. So, tell me.” Lunar Pulse shuffled on the chair, his grin growing.

“It was okay, I guess? We… talked. And had food.” Blast Off shrugged. “I walked him home, like you said. And we didn’t interface, like you said.” Blast Off could almost see Lunar Pulse’s energy field lighting up.

“Will you meet again?”

Blast Off nodded. “Tomorrow, after my presentation.”

“Aww, frag. That presentation. Could you get things done for it?”

“I’ll do it today.” Blast Off hoped he’d find the right mindset to actually work on it.

“Good luck. So, where are you and Windcut going tomorrow? Any plans?”

Even to Blast Off it was obvious that Lunar Pulse wasn’t interested in the presentation at all. The way he changed the topic back to the heliformer was grating so shortly after having woken up, but Blast Off only uttered a tired huff.

“So, no plans?” Lunar Pulse tipped his head to a side.

“He said he wants to go to my favourite place in Altihex…”

“And?”

Blast Off vented a yawn and leant back against the wall. “You know they don’t let just anyone on the roof of the spaceport, and I really have no idea where else to go.”

“The roof of the spaceport… how romantic.”

Blast Off glared at his batch mate who laughed in return.

“I’m sorry. I know you like it there.” Lunar Pulse leant against the desk. “Well, you could try at least? Maybe you'll have luck with the security personnel and there’ll be someone you know.”

“And where will I take him when they won’t let us up?” Blast Off probably shouldn’t think about it too much. He had other things to worry about than where to take the heliformer.

“How about the museum?” Lunar Pulse suggested, and Blast Off just stared at him. He couldn’t be serious. “You’re mentioned there a few times? There’s enough stuff you worked on that’s displayed there, so why not?”

Blast Off frowned. “Because I never go there for exactly the reason you just mentioned.”

“Then I can’t help you. I know you don’t like going to cinemas or theatres, and you've already been to the Cascades and the garden.”

“I could take him to Horizon’s?” Blast Off suggested. The bar he and Lunar Pulse frequented wasn’t special, and was rather small compared to other bars, but it was nice and quiet most of the time.

Lunar Pulse obviously didn’t like the idea. His face had lost the grin and his visor flickered. “Horizon’s? For a date? It’s really good you have me, you know…”

Blast Off wasn’t sure what was wrong with the bar, but he crossed it off his list. “Okay,” he muttered, and shrugged. “I guess it’s the museum if they won’t let us up on the roof.”

“That’s better.” 

Blast Off vented again, but he kept quiet. Silence settled between them, and Blast Off wasn’t upset he could use his batch mate’s presence as excuse for not working on his presentation. It was like back on HEX, and Blast Off liked the nostalgia.

“Lunar Pulse?” Blast Off eventually said after a few kliks, gaining the other’s attention.

“Hm?”

“You wanna interface?”

Lunar Pulse grinned. “No,” he said. It was a surprise.

“Why not?” Blast Off shifted and sat straighter again. He’d been back from space for a few cycles now and wouldn’t have minded swapping cables.

“Because you have a presentation to plan and prepare.” Lunar Pulse grinned way too brightly for someone being glared at by Blast Off.

“Then if you don’t have any more dating hints,” Blast Off spat, “and you don’t want to interface, get the frag out of my room.”

They both knew Blast Off didn’t truly mean it. Well, maybe a little, but Lunar Pulse like always didn’t mind. He got to his feet, giggling. “Sure thing. See you later!” He was out of the door before Blast Off could throw an empty energon cube after him.

With a heavy vent of his intakes, Blast Off let himself drop back on the berth. Staring at the ceiling he had no reason to procrastinate any longer. “Idiot,” Blast Off mumbled, but forced himself to get up.

* * *

Blast Off’s presentation on the extinction of the Volloon was more of a symposium involving scientists he had worked with a few times. All of them specialised in a specific aspect of xenological research. It resulted in an interesting discussion where Blast Off mostly listened, because he always did.

If he said something, no one talked over him or dismissed his ideas. It was a nice change compared to some events he’d had on HEX.

Blast Off enjoyed it, but once the meeting broke up, all he’d have liked to do was hide in his room and read. People were so exhausting.

By the time Blast Off headed out and the cold Altihex’ air greeted him, he’d almost forgotten he was supposed to have another meeting.

“Hey,” Blast Off was greeted by a smiling face.

He tensed. It wasn't really a meeting, rather a 'date', as Lunar Pulse and Windcut called it.

“Hello,” Blast Off said with a nod and slowed as Windcut stepped towards him. He should have thought that meeting the rotary after the presentation was bad timing. Now he was stuck with it.

“Everything okay?” Windcut asked, his head tilting slightly and the smile wavering.

“Sure,” Blast Off lied, and Lunar Pulse’s words repeated in his head: _Don’t pretend_. “Actually, no. I’m tired. The symposium was draining.”

“Oh, okay…” Windcut’s rotors twitched and he shifted from one foot to the other. “We don’t have to do anything today? I mean, we could do something later in the orn if you’re too tired?”

Blast Off pondered. Lunar Pulse would have his aft if he cancelled it now, and a ranting batch mate couldn’t be less tiring than getting this date over with.

“No, it’s fine,” Blast Off said, voice flat. “If you don’t mind going somewhere with few people that is.” He hoped they’d let them up on the roof, because he wasn’t fond of the idea of going to the museum.

“Few people sounds good to me,” Windcut replied. The smile was back, and Blast Off felt the offshoots of his energy field against his. The relief was palpable. “What do you have in mind?”

Blast Off nodded into a certain direction. “That way.”

Windcut fell in beside him, and Blast Off had to remember to walk a little slower than usual. He wasn’t used to people being smaller than him.

“Thanks,” Windcut said, surprising Blast Off. He gave another nod, but kept quiet.

They walked along busy streets that became even busier the closer they came to the spaceport.

Windcut’s rotors moved again, but he wasn’t saying anything. Only when they entered the main building of the port, Windcut stepped a little closer to Blast Off and muttered, “You said fewer people…?”

“I didn’t mean the lobby here.” Blast Off looked down, meeting Windcut’s confused face.

“Okay? Uh… are we heading into space?”

At that, Blast Off had to utter an amused huff. The rotary seemed a little uncomfortable.

“Why? Don’t you like the idea?” Blast Off teased, though his voice was still blank.

“Oh, uh, no. Totally cool. Just unexpected.” Windcut didn’t look like he was fine with it at all. His rotor blades twitched in a rhythm of two astroseconds, and he bit his lower lip.

“I _am_ a shuttle, so space is where I go,” Blast Off continued, and it shouldn’t be that much fun to make fun of the other.

“Right. I just,” Windcut shrugged, “I thought we'd be staying on Cybertron? I mean the ‘deal’ was you'd take me to your favourite place in Altihex.” He shifted again, and got even closer to make room for a group of tourists passing them. “But it’s fine! Space is… cool.”

“Cybertron’s orbit is still Cybertron, so…” Blast Off trailed off and turned into a different direction, away from the check in.

They went through a door with ‘employees only’ written on it, and entered a large, bright hallway. It was less busy there, a few people with datapads in their hands or small insentient trolleys with cargo moving through different gates.

Blast Off headed to another corridor, and through yet another door.

“I’ve never been here before,” Windcut muttered, his optics wide and confusion rich in his signature.

“Hardly anyone who doesn't work for the Institute has,” Blast Off explained, and it was the truth.

“Hey, Blast Off!” someone yelled - a red and orange shuttle, even taller than Blast Off himself. He stepped out from a small cabin next to another larger gate with a small door beside it.

“Flare-Up?” Blast Off raised his optical ridge.

“It’s been a while. I didn’t know you're back already.” Flare-Up leant against the door of the small cabin, arms crossed and a grin on his face.

Blast Off shrugged. “Something… unpleasant came up and I had to head back a little earlier.”

“Heh, okay?” Flare-Up tipped his head to a side. “And who’s that?”

“Uh, I’m Windcut,” the rotary introduced himself, raising a hand in a small wave. “Hi.”

Flare-Up grinned a toothy grin. “Our paintjobs match,” he commented. It made Blast Off frown.

“Flare-Up…” he muttered.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.” He raised his hands in defence. Windcut shifted again on his feet, looking from Blast Off to Flare-Up and back. “What are you doing here?” the red shuttle asked, and settled back against the cabin wall.

“I could ask you the same. Why are you here of all places? Security duty, really?” Blast Off shook his head slightly.

Flare-Up gave a laugh. “It’s more like punishment duty.”

Blast Off groaned in resignation. At least he wasn’t the only one who would never change. “What did you do this time?”

“I hit the dean in the face.” Only Flare-Up could say these kind of things and sound proud.

Windcut next to Blast Off gasped. “Why?”

“Heh, because he’s an afthead. Did you ever talk to him?”

Windcut shook his head.

“Be glad you didn’t. He’s a nasty old mech with a whole buttload of problems.”

Windcut tilted his head. “What’s a buttload?”

“A lot…” Blast Off sighed, and turned back to Flare-Up grinning at them. “I want to go up with a visitor. You’re going to open the door for us?”

Flare-Up vented air, appearing as though to ponder on this. “You want me to break the rules and let an unregistered person up?” Then his expression changed and the grin was back. “Of course I will! Blast Off, you always know how to make my day.”

Blast Off took a heavy intake and watched Flare-Up vanishing in his small cabin. He pushed a few buttons, and the smaller door clicked.

“Have fun up there!” He yelled, his voice muffled through the glass.

“Let’s go.” Blast Off nodded once towards Flare-Up, then at Windcut who followed him deeper into the innards of the space port.

* * *

Behind the scenes, the Altihex’ spaceport looked like a factory. Large pipes and cables where on the ceiling or walls, the staircases made of metal grid and over everything was the hum of air conditioning and vents transporting pollution.

Windcut stared, his head moving from one side to the other, then to where people walked or cursed and tools clattered. He didn’t ask where they were headed, just followed Blast Off with amazement and confusion thick in his energy field.

They went up a staircase, walked along a scaffolding that squealed beneath their feet until they reached a door.

Behind it was another set of stairs, made of concrete and more stable. Blast Off could see Windcut relaxing. He was looking forward to see how he reacted to the roof.

“We’re not flying into space,” Windcut said carefully and it made Blast Off huff amused.

One corner of his lips tugged up slightly as he shook his head. “No. And I guess you don’t mind?”

Windcut grinned, shaking his head. “You really had me there. I _am_ glad we arent'. I meant it when I said I think space is scary.”

“A planet bound who doesn’t romanticise space, that’s rare,” Blast Off commented, and opened the next door.

They were greeted by a waft of cold air.

“Where…?”

Blast Off allowed himself a tiny smile. He liked the awestruck expression on the other’s face, Lunar Pulse would be proud. “The roof. Anyone hardly goes here.”

Some of the pipes they’d seen earlier ended here, and there were more huge fans which created a whop-whop noise.

The view over the city was amazing.

Windcut turned to Blast Off with a smile. “Wow… and now I’m twice as happy that we aren't heading into space.”

“Let’s go over there,” Blast Off said and pointed to his left. “It’s quieter.”

Windcut nodded and followed.

Blast Off went over to the top of a small communication array. It was a smooth surface where they could lean on the foot of a huge satellite dish.

“Wow,” Windcut muttered again as he sat down next to Blast Off. Close enough that their energy fields briefly touched, but it wasn’t annoying. They had a good view of shuttles landing and taking off, and beneath it all Altihex’ streets glimmered in vibrant light.

“No wonder this is your favourite spot,” the rotary said, and shuffled a little, rearranging his rotors against the wall behind them. “And it has very few people.”

Blast Off huffed. “It does, yeah… You actually aren’t allowed up here, so it’s good Flare-Up was stationed by that door.”

“Thank you.” Windcut tilted his head up. “I’m honoured to be here.”

“Honoured?” Blast Off raised his optical ridges.

“Yeah, sounds odd, doesn’t it? But I am.” The rotary shrugged. “I haven’t talked much to shuttleformers here. They all stick to themselves and ignore most of… well, us. You’re not like most alphas.”

“That could be an insult, you know,” Blast Off said, but didn’t mean it. He knew the perks of being an alpha, but he was in space so often, he hardly could live up to all the rules and expectations. Space was easier. Even alien races were less complicated than the rules of Cybertronian society. “After HEX got closed down,” he continued, “most of my fellow shuttles became stuck.”

“Stuck?”

Blast Off ailerons clicked without his conscious intent. “They didn’t fly out as often any more. Most of them tried to find other professions or occupations, which is a waste, really. Some of them were good scientists, and now they stay on Cybertron, not making use of their experiences.”

“And I take it you fly out a lot?”

Blast Off nodded. “As soon as my cooldown is over, I want to take off again.”

“Oh…” Windcut uttered, something in the voice making Blast Off glance down at him. “You really like space?”

“I get space,” Blast Off explained. “It’s home. Cybertron, its people… I don’t get them.” Lunar Pulse had said he should be honest, but it was odd to be that open.

Windcut still smiled. “So it’s you who romanticises space.”

Blast Off laughed softly. “Maybe.”

Windcut bit his lower lip again, and he shifted, edging closer to Blast Off. “We should have brought energon,” he sighed.

Blast Off’s optics flickered. “I have some.” He reached into his compartment of his thigh and took out two small energon gel cubes. “At the symposium they insisted I take some because there were so many left. It’s not real energon though.”

Windcut stared. “They just gave those away? Frag…” His rotors flicked. “Those are not cheap.” Slowly he took one and looked at it as though he expected it to vanish.

“I guess that means we shouldn’t waste them.” Blast Off slid down a little and nibbled on the cube, staring at the air traffic of the space port.

They were quiet for a moment, and Blast Off enjoyed just sitting there. The hum of the nearby fans was tranquilising and he tensed when Windcut broke the silence.

“It’s so busy…” he muttered.

Blast Off knew he meant the spaceport. “It reminds me of HEX.” He ate the rest of his treat and added. “There were times it was just as busy. Everyone coming back or leaving and it looked just like that from the social decks.”

“It sounds amazing.”

Blast Off allowed himself a melancholic smile. “She _is_ amazing.”

Windcut’s energy field nudged him with understanding, a nice warm touch that wasn’t intrusive.

“You were built on HEX, weren’t you?”

“I was, yes.”

Windcut vented a chuckle. Blast Off had no idea what was so funny about that.

“What kind of shuttle are you? I mean, what does your alt-mode look like?”

Opening his mouth, Blast Off wanted to reply quickly, and then stopped. How should he explain to someone not used to space-frames what his kind of model was like?

Windcut seemed to have sensed his dilemma, and offered one of his smiles. “You could show me?”

That was an idea. “There’s a ‘stretching room’ for the Institute personnel where I could show you,” Blast Off said. “I’m not allowed to transform inside the city due to the mass-shifting. I would need to get a license for it, but it’s not worth it if I can get everywhere with my root mode thrusters.”

Windcut stared. “Uh… stretching room?”

“We can use it if we aren’t going to fly anywhere for a while.” Blast Off shrugged. “To, well, stretch…?”

Windcut’s confused smile morphed into a grin and then he started laughing. His vents hitched, a high pitched sound that was rather endearing, for lack of a better word. The rotary’s frame was shaking. Optics dimming and still giggling, he leant his forehead against Blast Off’s upper arm. The shuttle tensed, because he always did. It didn’t happen again when one of the sleek hands came close, the thin fingers touching Blast Off’s side.

“What did I say?”

Windcut shook his head. “Nothing.” He detached himself, glancing up at Blast Off who looked down. The hand stayed where it was. “I just meant you could point at one of the shuttles flying there…” Windcut said, then his voice dropped to a murmur. “But I wouldn’t mind seeing you in alt-mode.” His signature changed, his field pushing stronger against Blast Off’s now, and he didn’t mind it at all. 

“You have to show me your alt, too,” Blast Off said, turning slightly, his vents blowing warm air over Windcut’s arm.

“I can show you whatever you like,” Windcut muttered, suggestively, still staring up at Blast Off. “I really want to kiss you now…”

Blast Off clenched his jaw, but he found that he wouldn’t mind that either. Their energy fields were a hot mess already, shifting, pushing, crackling. A reminder of the time all those vorns ago, the rotary’s touchable frame under him, writhing…

“Blast Off?” a loud voice yelled.

Windcut tensed, and so did Blast Off.

“Where the frag are you?” It was Flare-Up, and thankfully he was still close to the door. “My shift’s over in a few kliks, and you'll get in real trouble if you come down later and I'm not there.”

Windcut’s head dropped back on Blast Off’s arm, his engine giving a frustrated rev.

“Looks like we'll have to postpone that…” Blast Off sighed. Windcut gave another whine, but then detangled himself. It was cold when their energy fields parted.

“There you are!” Flare-Up had found them, a big grin on his face. “Hurry. I don’t mind getting in trouble, but Blast Off here is a real poster boy when it comes to security things and slag.”

Reluctantly, Blast Off and Windcut got to their feet and followed the red shuttle down. They didn’t talk, and only when they reached the spaceport’s lobby did Blast Off speak up.

“So… we can meet tomorrow? For the alt-mode thing?”

Windcut’s rotors visibly wilted. “I can’t. We have an inspection at work tomorrow.”

“Ah…”

“I have no idea how long it’ll take, but they scheduled us all till late at night.” Windcut’s engine revved again.

“I see,” Blast Off said, flatly. “The day after tomorrow then?” This was becoming something of a thing, it seemed.

“I’d love that.” The rotor blades twitched again upwards and flicked once. “Where can I meet you?”

They headed outside, the noises ebbing when the crowd dissolved in the streets.

“The Institute’s main entrance would be best.”

“I’ll be there.” Windcut stopped. “I’m looking forward to it.” A gleam in his optics made Blast Off shiver. “I have to go that way,” he gave a minute nod to his right, “so I guess it’s goodnight now?”

“I guess.”

Blast Off had no chance to react when Windcut put his hands on his arms and pulled himself up. Their lip plates touched briefly for a mere astrosecond. “You can have more of these later,” Windcut breathed against Blast Off’s lips, and the shuttle cursed them being in public. He had a good idea what he’d do otherwise.

Dropping back down to his feet, Windcut grinned. Blast Off answered with an engine rumble; their fields touched a last time.

“Goodnight,” the rotary said, and left.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** ultharkitty

Stretching room, Windcut thought, was an understatement. The _room_ was bigger than any hangar Windcut had ever seen. It was higher than the congress hall in Iacon, the ceiling made of glass. A few spots were visible, the brightest stars in the sky that weren’t drowned out by the lights of Altihex.

“If that’s a room,” Windcut muttered, “What do you call a hall?”

Blast Off next to him huffed. This sort of huff that hinted at amusement, and Windcut liked being the reason for it.

The shuttle had already waited at the entrance of the Institute, which was as impressive as anything in Altihex connected with space travel or research.

Windcut had felt small there, and was glad they’d left quickly.

Blast Off had led him around the main building, through a maze of other structures that resembled a campus, and eventually they had reached the huge hangar.

Besides them, there was only one other shuttle present. They were in alt-mode already, a sleek build in white and blue.

“That’s Teflon,” Blast Off explained. “She’s resting here after surgery.”

Windcut nodded. “Why’s she here and not in an infirmary?”

Blast Off walked a bit further in. “It’s better if repairs integrate in alt-mode. At least for those of us who were built in alt.” He tilted his head, frowning. “I think every shuttle with mass-shifting is built in alt, though.” He turned to Windcut, his ailerons clicking. Windcut had yet to find out what it meant. “Anyway, we don’t need to worry about her. She’s in forced recharge.”

“Are you sure? My alt-mode is noisy.” Windcut grinned. But he stuck out his tongue and hopped a step away. “I’ll show you.” He didn’t leave Blast Off time to respond and fired up his root-mode thrusters before transforming mid-air.

His rotors turned, and it was loud enough that Windcut pinged Blast Off for his comm-frequency.

//Yes, it is noisy…// the shuttle said. Even over comm his voice was flat.

Windcut chuckled through the comm-link, rising and falling a little, before he turned on his axis without leaving the spot. //Frag, this ‘room’ is so big, I could fly loops in here.//

He could practically hear Blast Off’s frown. //Don’t try it. I don’t want you to crash.//

//What? You believe the myth that heliformers can’t fly loops?// Windcut dared, and took off, flying a little too close over Blast Off who ducked down.

It was true, a loop was a challenge, and it was technically more of a screw, but here in the hall, there were no wind velocities or objects to take into account. Windcut accelerated, and increased his altitude.

//Don’t…// Blast Off said but broke off just as Windcut was upside down, and then the right way up again. The screw was over way too soon, and although his reeling instruments told him not to do it again, Windcut didn’t listen.

Repeating the manoeuvre, he came close to Blast Off again. Windcut didn’t decrease his speed, but transformed and stumbled towards Blast Off. His field flared against the shuttle’s, and he let his joy and amazement show, only to run a few steps and transform again.

//I love it here!// Windcut yelled over the comm, and flew another round. He darted over the sleeping shuttle in the corner, and tumbled mid-air, and always he felt Blast Off’s gaze on him.

He lost track of how long he was flying, but it must have been several kliks, maybe even breems, but Blast Off never complained.

The shuttle did utter a grumbled rev when Windcut sped towards him and stopped just in front of him. Giggling, first through the still open comm-link, then aloud once he was back in root-mode, Windcut didn’t even try to hide his grin. His vents were working loudly, his field fluctuating.

“Looks like you also needed to stretch,” Blast Off commented, but it didn’t sound judging.

“Yeah…” Windcut smiled so brightly his cheeks almost hurt. “But when do you have the chance to fly like that? You always have to take care about other people or the wind or humidity.”

“I see,” Blast Off looked down at him, his expression unreadable. But it was so intriguing. “At least you had fun?”

“I did, yes!” Windcut nodded. “You probably saw more of my alt then you wanted. But now it’s your turn.” He couldn’t stop his rotors from flicking in expectation.

“But I warn you, don’t be disappointed,” Blast Off sighed. “I won’t be able to fly around here, let alone do any fancy manoeuvres.”

“But I’ll see how your alt-mode looks,” Windcut encouraged.

Shrugging, Blast Off turned, walking away. When Windcut was about to follow him, Blast Off looked over his shoulder. “Stay there. I need the space.”

Windcut's mouth opened, but he closed it again without speaking. Mass-shifting was so alien to him… He found that shuttles often overdid it with their distance – and then Blast Off burst.

His frame fell apart completely, metal hovered in a cloud, pulsing, shifting and it didn’t sound like transformation. It was a darker sound, with a crackling in it, and Windcut could only stare when plates grew and folded back together to a massive shuttle in front of him.

Something clicked, a hiss followed, and Blast Off’s rear opened. A ramp slowly descended.

//I can come in?// Windcut asked, and would never get used to the idea of stepping inside someone else.

//If you want to?// Blast Off’s vents puffed air, kicking up dust.

Slowly Windcut went on the ramp, carefully moving up until he set his first step into the cargo hold. It was just as impressive as Blast Off was from the outside.

“You’re amazing,” Windcut mumbled, his optics wide as he looked around. Six tiny yellow dots indicated cameras, but they were in-built, and Windcut couldn’t know where they pointed.

There were containers on the sides, four of them, and benches, and nets, and it was odd to think that all this was somewhere stored within Blast Off in root-mode.

“I can hear you,” Blast Off said, speakers loud, but the voice just the same.

Windcut smiled. “Sorry… but, well, you _are_ amazing.”

Blast Off huffed, his alt-mode vents were even audible inside. He didn’t say anything more.

“Can you see me?”

“I do. I have cameras.”

“And you can see every feed all the time?” Windcut wondered. It gave him a headache just to think about the input from six optical feeds.

“I do, yes. From the nine cameras and from outside sensors and scanners. It’s… different in alt-mode. It’s hard to explain.”

Windcut didn’t ask where the other three cameras were, but he could guess they were located on the flight deck. The door at the other end of the cargo hold was closed, and Windcut didn’t really want to intrude there.

“You _are_ amazing,” he repeated, and put a hand on one of the metal walls. It was warm, the faint glow on an energy field noticeable. He flared his own, full of awe and something warmer, more intimate. “Do you feel that?”

“It tickles.”

The wall beneath Windcut’s fingers trembled, just slightly, not enough to create sound. “Tickles?” Windcut smiled, he was sure one of the cameras picked it up. “Does it tickle like the creeper plant you told me about?”

Another huff, and the voice of the shuttle changed slightly. “No. It’s not like that.”

Windcut extended his field again. This time, he earnt himself an answering nudge. Biting his lip, Windcut stared at the purple metal for a few astroseconds, but it was unnecessary to dwell on a decision he’d already made.

He turned, his rotors flicked once before he pressed them against the wall. His heightened sensors could take everything in so much better. The wall trembled slightly, either from the strong engine or something else which Windcut hoped Blast Off felt. He sensed the energy field grow stronger, it seeped through the thin metal of his blades, heated them.

“You’re warm,” Windcut said softly.

Blast Off’s speakers dropped in volume, too. “So are you.”

The smile returned to Windcut’s face, and he dared press closer, his palms flat against Blast Off. His optics dimmed, offlined fully after a few moments, and he relaxed.

None of them said anything for a while, and the touch created a certain kind of restlessness that crawled over his lines and settled in on Windcut’s rotors.

Blast Off’s alt-mode shuddered, a hiss sounded from somewhere, and Windcut onlined his optics again - just in time to see the metal around him breaking apart.

“Huh?” he uttered in confusion, but the floor vanished beneath him, an odd energy pushed against his frame, and then he landed with his aft on the ground.

“I should have said something.” It was Blast Off’s voice. When Windcut looked up, the shuttle stood in front of him, holding out a hand.

Windcut shook his head to clear his mind. “It’s okay,” he muttered, and took the hand.

A strong grip closed around his fingers, and he was pulled up easily back to his feet. He stumbled, coming so close their fields rasped against one another. Blast Off did a lot with his energy field, Windcut realised, and thought that this might have been on purpose? He _hoped_ it had been on purpose…

“My room is in the dorm just a few blocks away,” Blast Off said. Windcut raised his optical ridges, daring to hope that it meant what he wanted it to mean. The shuttle continued, “You could walk me home? Then we’re even.”

Windcut stared for a moment. Blast Off still had his hand in his, and their energy fields nudged each other. Walking him home… Not exactly what Windcut had in mind, but had he imagined it, or was there a promising edge to Blast Off’s tone?

“I’d like that,” Windcut replied, surprised by the static from his vocaliser.

Blast Off’s lip plates tugged upwards. Maybe there’d be more than just walking him home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: ultharkitty

Unlike the time when Blast Off walked Windcut to his door, they didn’t talk. There was a tense silence between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, not really.

Blast Off didn’t know what to say, how to initiate another conversation, and Windcut seemed too distracted to keep his energy field under control. Not that he succeeded. They didn’t walk that close to one another, but his field rasped against Blast Off’s, hot and hopeful, just like it had been on the roof of the spaceport.

They met some other shuttles on the way, and Blast Off greeted them with a brief nod. They stared at Windcut, too, and the heliformer offered them a smile.

Blast Off guessed him walking around with a planet-bound would create some gossip, but he’d never cared about that. It usually stopped after a few days when everyone found someone new to focus on.

“That’s my dorm,” Blast Off said, pointing at a boring grey building ahead of them. It had a few windows, some of them lit.

“You only have a room there?” Windcut asked, looking up at him with bright optics.

Blast Off shrugged. “It’s not worth renting an apartment when I’m out that often. It’s just a waste of money. And we get the rooms for free here…” He suddenly felt cheap, but Windcut didn’t comment on it. “My room is on the second floor.”

The heliformer nodded, and the conversation ebbed again.

The way upstairs was unreally long, and the way to Blast Off’s room on the hallway stretched endlessly. It was hard for Blast Off not to walk faster.

Finally, they reached the door.

Blast Off shrugged again. “Here it is.”

“Uh-hu?” Windcut tilted his head.

“It’s not really impressive,” Blast Off continued, feeling incredibly stupid, though he had no idea what else to say, “but do you want to come in for a moment?”

Windcut nodded quickly, and his rotors gave a twitch. “Sure.”

Blast Off flared his field against the console and the door opened. 

The room wasn’t very big. It was about the size of the quarters they had on HEX, though they didn’t have to share them here. There was more room for personal items, a computer console, and a drawer where Blast Off put his datapads. It was cluttered, and somewhere on there were a few discs with updated star-charts.

“It’s nice,” Windcut said as the door closed behind him.

Blast Off huffed, turning to the other. “Nice is just another word for slag.”

Windcut laughed, his optics bright. “I mean it in a good way.” He stepped closer.

“Right…” Blast Off clenched his jaw. “Excuse the chaos. I hardly invite anyone in.” There were even some alien rocky artefacts on his berth that he’d meant to list and inspect before handing them over to the archaeology department .

“I’m honoured then,” Windcut murmured. “Are the walls soundproof?”

That took Blast Off by surprise. “Uh,” he uttered, but couldn’t reply as Windcut leaned up.

Their lip plates met again, shy at first, like in front of the space port, but then Windcut wrapped his arms around Blast Off’s neck and pulled him closer. The kiss morphed quickly from chaste to needy, and Blast Off put his hands on Windcut’s hips.

The metal was warm, but not as hot as Windcut’s lips on his, like their glossae teasing each other and fields rasping.

Windcut moaned softly, urging himself closer to Blast Off, his hands clinging at Blast Off’s helm and neck.

Blast Off’s engine revved hard, making them both shake and Windcut’s rotors twitch. The rotary breathed another moan, and it was crazy how much that sound turned Blast Off on.

The grip on Windcut’s hip tightened, and he forced the heliformer against the drawer. The datapads rattled. With a swift move, Blast Off wiped the drawer’s surface clean. Everything landed on the floor, and he didn’t care. He needed to tidy up anyway.

He put his hand back on the other’s slim waist, and lifted him up.

Windcut gasped in surprise, his field flaring, and Blast Off flared his field back, engulfing the other. It earned him a loud yelp that broke the kiss.

Blast Off took the chance to nibble along Windcut’s jawline, down to his throat to lightly bite the cables.

“Sigma,” Windcut gasped, his fingers tightening on Blast Off’s helm before he loosened them and pushed himself away a little.

Blast Off gave him a questionable look.

“I…” Windcut muttered, his ventilation quick but his advanced cooling system hadn’t engaged yet. “It's getting late and… maybe it’s too soon for this? I… should leave.”

Blast Off stared in disbelief. Oh slag. “No,” he insisted. He didn’t want the other to leave. Not now. “No, you shouldn’t.” He let his field extend and his engine rev.

Windcut’s optics flickered. “Oh frag,” the rotary breathed and his fingers clung tighter again. “I was hoping you’d say that!” He wrapped his legs around Blast Off’s waist and pulled him into another kiss.

Their fields were a crackling mess that began to shift and change. Blast Off’s hands started roving, exploring the frame like he’d done the first time ages ago. Windcut squirmed under the touch, his rotor blades moving as though trying to spin.

The metal under Blast Off’s fingers was smooth and heating, the edges of plating sharp but not cutting. Windcut’s charge was high enough to create tiny electric sparks whenever Blast Off stroked over circuitry.

The rotary gasped again, his own hands starting to move, stroking over Blast Off’s strong shoulders and arms. One hand traced down to the heat shield, and slim fingers dug beneath it, making Blast Off weak as a surge of pleasure moved up his arm straight into his interface hardware.

This time it was him who moaned and broke the kiss, but Windcut searched for his lips again.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the first evening,” Windcut mumbled against Blast Off.

The shuttle’s engine rumbled. “Me too.”

Windcut whined, “Why did we wait that long?”

Blast Off would hit Lunar Pulse over the head, he thought, but the sentiment was washed away when Windcut flared his field stronger and finally they merged to one.

A hot bubble or static pleasure around them, it pulsed and pushed and seeped under plating.

Windcut screamed cried out in sudden pleasure, Blast Off’s engine stuttered and both their cooling systems switched on.

“I want you,” Windcut said, static obscuring his words, and his fingers scratching on Blast Off’s interface panel. “I wanna connect,” he whined, but it morphed into a moan when Blast Off grabbed around the rotor hub to pull him closer.

Windcut’s panel opened without prompting, a soft click under the sound of their revved up engines and working cooling systems.

Blast Off gripped the rotor hub more tightly, pressed their lips together more forcefully and made Windcut scream – a muffled sound between their lip plates.

When Blast Off’s panel opened, Windcut took out the connector instantly and plugged it into his port. The rotary panted needily, and his fingers trembled as he fumbled for his own plug.

Blast Off pushed the first surge of charge through the one way connection, making Windcut squirm and shiver. His fumbling hand stopped and scratched over the surface of the drawer instead, Windcut’s optics flickering and dimming.

With a growl, Blast Off took it in his own hands to complete the interface. The feedback loop started instantly, like a flood rolling over him, through him as pleasure and need mingled and the combined energy field charged even more. It prickled on their plating, heated it, from the inside and the outside.

Blast Off groaned. Everything was more sensitive than usual as it was his first interface after returning from space. The heat was more intense, the pleasure more thrilling. It amplified what he sent through as well, making Windcut shudder and his plating tremble.

The rotary’s optics switched off, his lips forming voiceless words, sometimes a curse, sometimes a plea, and Blast Off couldn’t keep his eyes off him.

Windcut slid down a little, leaning half against the wall, half on the drawer. He arched up, and their plating scraped causing a pleasant jolt of friction on the sensors, and he drew his legs up. Blast Off gripped his thighs as he leaned down, the heat growing between their frames. He rested his forehead on Windcut’s shoulder, and the rotary blindly touched anything in reach - Blast Off’s shoulders, his winglets, his alt-mode vents.

Windcut’s optics onlined dimly, and his lips formed a smile between his moans. It was then that Blast Off sensed something else beneath the need in Windcut’s stream. Something warm, a fondness he’d learnt to recognise from Lunar Pulse and Light Screen – his batch mates.

It was confusing, and flattering, and Blast Off had no chance to think on it further as Windcut overloaded beneath him. Their combined energy field flared up. Static lightning crackled on their plating as the tail rotors on Windcut’s shins rattled against his legs like his main rotors rattled against the wall and the drawer. He bit his lower lip, his engine whined and he tried to muffle his sounds. 

Blast Off rode out the first flood, tensing as he tried to stop his own climax. He succeeded for a few astroseconds, but his sensitive frame and the lack of recent physical intimacy made it impossible to hold on longer.

Blast Off bit Windcut’s neck; his engine revved, making Windcut and the drawer vibrate as he groaned against the cables in front of him. The pleasure burnt through him in the best way. Better than any kind of radiation as joints tensed and sensors lit up from charge. The moment the strongest surge of climax subsided, just when he started to relax and slump, there was another rush of charge through the interface. Windcut moaned, a staticky loud sound as he overloaded again.

Even though it was less intense than before, it made Blast Off’s engine rumble and the post-overload tingling set in.

They clung to each other, their engines slowly calming down and their fames pinging softly as the metal cooled.

Blast Off would have liked to have stayed there for another while, but Windcut was probably uncomfortable in his position. Half hanging against the wall and the drawer couldn’t be a position he wanted to assume long term, even though he wasn't yet squirming.

Blast Off raised himself up, and Windcut didn’t let go. He was pulled up as well, their chest plating still pressed against another. The black rotor blades twitched freely now, and Blast Off reached for one. The metal quivered under his fingers, and he couldn't resist stroking down its full length.

Windcut groaned again, and his part of the energy field charged. Slightly loosening his grip, Windcut looked at Blast Off.

“That feels nice,” he muttered hoarsely.

Blast Off repeated it, and Windcut’s optics flickered. He bit his lip and there was a spark of new arousal in the connection.

* * *

Windcut sighed at the soft touch on his rotor. He knew Blast Off could easily bend them, break them even, and it gave a thrill to it all.

Smiling, Windcut let go of Blast Off’s shoulder. He stroked over the thick throat cables, so warm and pulsing, up to the shuttle’s lips.

“You practised,” he said, his voice still staticky. He saw no reason to reset his vocaliser.

Blast Off huffed, a blow of warm air against Windcut’s chest. The amusement was obvious through their connection, and Windcut knew Blast Off realised he’d meant kissing.

“A little.”

“With whom?” Windcut asked, still stroking over Blast Off’s lips. They were warm.

“A few?” Blast Off shrugged.

“I see…” Windcut muttered and it earned him another amused huff.

“Are you jealous?”

Windcut frowned. “No? We haven’t seen each other for vorns…” But he had to admit, while it was appealing that Blast Off was a great kisser now, it was a little annoying for the lack of a better word. He’d been the one who had taught Blast Off how to kiss in the first place.

“I see,” Blast Off said, echoing Windcut’s own sentiment from earlier, still entertained, and Windcut realised some of this had gone through their connection.

Windcut shifted, their plating scraping together. When he shrugged, his rotors moved on purpose. “Well,” he mumbled, keeping his optics on Blast Off’s lips, “maybe a little.”

For this Windcut earned the first real and bright grin from Blast Off. It made his rotors flutter and his frame feel light. There was a pang somewhere inside him that he didn’t dare think about. His optics dropped to Blast Off’s alt-mode vents, and he hoped none of this was traceable through the interface.

“Hold on,” Blast Off said a mere astrosecond before he lifted Windcut up.

The rotary uttered a yelp, his legs wrapping tighter around Blast Off’s waist, his fingers digging in transformation seams on Blast Off’s shoulders and back.

Blast Off carried him to the berth, but didn’t lay him on it. The shuttle just sat down with Windcut on his lap, one hand busy putting the rocks on the floor, the other placed on the small of Windcut’s back, right under his rotor hub.

“What are they?” Windcut asked, tilting his head slightly and leaning the side of his helm against Blast Off’s chest.

“Alien things I need to work on.”

“Uh-hu?” Windcut muttered and flared his field so the static around them grew again. He didn’t want Blast Off to work on that now…

“But that can wait till later,” the shuttle said, letting himself drop with his back on the berth and pulling Windcut with him. “Much later.”

“Good plan.” Windcut shuffled on Blast Off to reach his lips again. Their kiss wasn’t as needy as before, or as shy, but sensual, and Windcut melted into it. Melted into the kiss and into the arousing comfort of Blast Off’s hands exploring his rotor blades. Curious fingers traced over the metal, squeezed it and wandered to his hub. They played with the swash plate, the brackets that held the blades and the hidden mechanisms.

Windcut sighed a moan, his charge increased like the heat in his frame. Sending a slow pulse to Blast Off, their stream picked up again. It was more relaxed this time, more intimate, and Windcut was amused and amazed at how Blast Off explored his frame, especially his back and rotors.

Rotaries were exotic, Windcut knew, and he’d had a few lovers who had been fascinated by his blades. None of them had been as careful and skilled as Blast Off.

Or maybe he just imagined that for a whole different reason.

His frame was warm and tingling again; pleasure travelled up and down his circuits and plating and made him squirm.

“If you keep that up,” Windcut murmured against Blast Off’s lips, his voice staticky, his stream restless, “I’m going to overload again.”

The engine beneath Windcut rumbled. “Believe it or not,” Blast Off replied, and his engine revved even harder, “but that’s my intention.”

Windcut’s laugh dissolved into a series of moans and whimpers when his climax hit. He bathed in it and didn’t try to stop the crawling sensations. It was slow and warm, pleasure creeping through him, lighting up his sensor net all at once in a moment of utter bliss.

When he came back from his high, he was slumped on Blast Off, their stream still flowing back and forth, with Blast Off’s charge most prominent. He heaved himself up a little, looking at the shuttle.

“You didn’t overload…” Windcut said and felt guilty.

“Not yet.” Blast Off’s hand stroked up and down Windcut’s side, his voice thick with static. “But you have all night to finish what you started.” It was a statement and a question.

Windcut smiled. It was the beginning of the weekend. “I have the next two days,” he said, pushing the bundled sensations of his pleasure through the interface.

Now Blast Off moaned. When Windcut leant down again, their kiss became needy once more.

* * * 

It was already late afternoon when they woke up. Blast Off was still tired; his arms and legs were heavy and his circuits sore.

With optics offline, he rubbed over his face. There was weight half on him, a warm frame lay that against his side with an arm resting over his chest.

Windcut stirred before Blast Off onlined his optics. The rotary mumbled something unintelligible and pressed closer; his energy field pulsed lazily, slowly, rich with drowsiness and satisfaction.

“Morning,” Blast Off said, glancing at the red frame with twitching black rotors.

“Hmmm,” Windcut hummed, his optics still offline.

“Well, or rather good afternoon,” the shuttle corrected himself.

Windcut’s vents uttered a soft laugh. “I guess we needed the rest,” he said, static in his voice that obscured the words. He still didn’t move. Without sitting up or detangling himself from Blast Off, he arched his back and his lips pressed a light kiss on Blast Off’s upper arm under his winglet. “I wouldn’t trade last night for anything.”

Blast Off’s sensor net tingled at the memory. They hadn’t got much sleep before the world outside had started its morning routine.

With a sigh, Windcut shifted, shuffling to lie fully on Blast Off’s chest. His optics were dim now, his lips curved in a smile. “Totally worth it.”

Blast Off huffed, and he couldn’t resist the grin. “Totally,” he agreed.

Windcut’s optics brightened. His hand came up to Blast Off's face. Slim fingers gently traced along Blast Off’s jaw line, his lips and nose. It was a tingle on his sensors.

“We should do it again…” the rotary murmured.

Blast Off extended his energy field. It made Windcut’s smile change.

“I mean,” he added, squirming a little, his look dropping to somewhere besides Blast Off’s helm. “Not just last night. I want to repeat that, too, frag, I really do, but…” he trailed off.

“But?” Blast Off raised his optical ridges.

“I also liked just meeting you. Just to spend some time with you in that park or on that roof.”

Blast Off tilted his head, which was more a rolling to a side with him still lying there. “You make it sound like it’s a bad thing?” It was a question, because Blast Off wasn’t sure. He also didn’t know what it meant if Windcut thought it was a bad thing. He himself had quite enjoyed their evenings so far. It was odd to not pretend, but so far he’d thought Windcut hadn’t seemed to mind. And it was good to know someone who wasn’t his batch mates. Blast Off’s therapist on HEX had always stressed how important that was.

“I, ah,” Windcut shook his head and smiled, “That’s not what I meant. Not a bad thing…” he trailed off and left Blast Off wondering. He still had no idea what was it about, and Windcut was just smiling at him.

“I’m in space a lot,” Blast Off said to find comfortable ground again.

“And when you’re not, you’re in Altihex. Just like me.”

Blast Off gave a brief nod. He had his room here, and his work. “So you’ll be waiting until I come back?” He frowned.

It made Windcut laugh. “Well, it’s not that I’ll snatch a spacecraft and follow you. I think by now you'll have realised that I’m not that eager to go off-planet.”

“You could try to get to know other shuttles?” Blast Off suggested.

“I guess I could…” Windcut said, the smile had an odd edge to it that Blast Off still didn’t understand. There was a nudge through the interface, making Blast Off’s circuits tingle. They were still connected…

But I take it you won’t, Blast Off thought, and sent the sentiment back through the connection.

Windcut’s rotors shivered, and the smile morphed into a grin. The answering pulse Windcut pushed into Blast Off was laden with crawling static, sensations slowly sneaking through his sensor net. His optics flickered, his engine revved.

With an awkward move that wasn’t as smooth as Blast Off wanted due to the rotor blades, he rolled them over.

Windcut giggled, looking up at him expectantly. His hand trailed down from Blast Off’s shoulder to his upper arm and stopped at the winglet. His fingers that were so small compared to Blast Off’s own stroked along the edge, pulsing his energy field into the thin metal. Blast Off clenched his jaw.

“So,” Windcut said, like last night his voice was staticky, “you want to meet me again?”

Tipping his head to a side, Blast Off raised his optical ridge. He took the other’s hand on his winglet, and pressed it on the berth above Windcut’s helm. “I thought the answer was obvious?”

Without prompting, Windcut raised his other arm, placing his hand next to the other, fingers digging into the soft covering.

“Maybe?” Windcut writhed under Blast Off. “And maybe I want to hear it?”

Blast Off frowned, but leaned low and pressed his lips to Windcut’s. The rotary sighed, arching against him. “Yes,” he mumbled against Windcut, “I’d like to meet you again whenever I’m on planet.”

The surge through the interface was unexpected and strong enough to make Blast Off moan. It made him realise that he’d meant what he’d said. And if it meant Windcut was as eager as last night, Blast Off would totally be okay with Windcut waiting for him until he was back from space.

“How long until your cooldown is over?” Windcut asked, his vents going faster, his vocaliser crackling.

“Four orns.” Blast Off sounded just as aroused.

Windcut’s field flared hard, pressing against Blast Off’s until their offshoots started to merge.

“So I have four orns” the rotary breathed, “to make sure you won’t change your mind?” A hot rush like radiation from a dying star ran all over Blast Off. It made his arms weak, and he buried his face in Windcut’s neck. He answered with an equally intense surge, one from his memory banks where cold icy space and hot piercing radiation mingled.

Windcut arched up with a scream, and Blast Off didn’t see the need to tell him it was unlikely he’d change his mind.


End file.
